


Torment

by InitialA



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk Kink, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Handcuffs, Hook Kink, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InitialA/pseuds/InitialA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two-parter. Emma and Killian trade off on tormenting each other.</p><p>“I merely wanted to wish you a proper goodnight.”<br/>“In an alley? ’Cause that’s super romantic.”<br/>“Well, love, I didn’t wish to be interrupted. And I wanted to be assured that you would dream only of me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Killian

“ _Swan!_ ”

He watched her come to full awareness, looking about sharply for the source. “Over here, love,” he said, his voice the same soft volume as before.

“Killian. You scared the hell out of me,” she told him, backtracking a few steps to join him. “Is there a reason you’ve taken to skulking in an alley?”

“Do I need a reason, love?” Killian asked, his arms automatically going around her to bring her closer.

“Depends. Does the reason involve a scenario that ends with me arresting you again?” Emma asked dryly, one eyebrow ticking up.

His hand went to her chin, tilting her head up to look at him better. “Now, darling, that is entirely up to you.” Her eyes narrowed in that way when she had a sarcastic retort headed straight at him, and he kissed her forehead. “But doubtless you’re wondering why I’ve invited you into this dark, secretive location where there’s not a soul but you and me; particularly when I know you’re exhausted from your very long day of Savioring all over town and just want to go back to your parents’ and crawl into bed.”

“The thought crossed my mind, yeah,” she said; as if to prove his point, she had given herself in to his embrace, and was resting her head against his chest.

“I merely wanted to wish you a proper goodnight.”

“In an alley? ’Cause that’s super romantic.”

“Well, love, I didn’t wish to be interrupted. And I wanted to be assured that you would dream only of me.”

She lifted her head from him and raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to prove it. He bent slightly, capturing her mouth with his. After only a few moments, he pulled away; she looked baffled as he leaned further, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke, “Flattering it may be that you might dream of me as such, but… tell me, love, aren’t there more preferable dreams to be having?”

She stilled, her breathing slowed. He grinned to himself. “Breathe, Swan. Now, I want you to picture a little house,” he murmured softly, “away from town, with acres of forest surrounding it… no townsfolk causing trouble, no one to shout for the Savior to save them, no parents or children underfoot… and you and I are ensconced within that little house, free to do whatever we wish.”

“You had me at the house,” she told him softly.

“Aye, but what’s happening inside the house, love, is the fun part. You see, in the little house in the forest, you are being properly worshipped.”

She chuckled as he kissed her ear. “By whom am I being worshipped?” Her voice was low, teasing.

He bit at her earlobe, perhaps harder than intended, but she sucked in a breath and leaned into him further. “Didn’t your mother ever warn you not to tease a pirate, love?” He growled, punctuating every other word with sucking kisses down her neck.

“Must have slipped her mind… twenty-something years later…”

He grinned into the crook of her neck, despite himself. “Be a good lass, and listen to your bedtime story. Where was I… Oh yes, a devilishly handsome pirate is busy worshipping a princess. It’s a proper worship, see, as at this point I have taken you to bed before and thoroughly ravaged you, and now is the time to get to know each other. Slowly. Intimately. For instance, love, there’s this spot here…” He flicked his tongue against the crook of her neck and she gasped. “Aye, there it is. A lovely little spot it is, and I’m bound to find the rest of them.”

He spun her around, so her back was against his chest. Killian turned his attentions to the other side of her neck as she let her head fall back against him, baring her throat for him. “We’re very lucky to be in the house in the middle of the forest, because it’s very far away from your father’s ears, and I only know when I’ve found these delightful spots of yours because you have a tendency to be quite… vocal. ‘ _Oh, Killian_ ’, ‘ _Please, Killian_ ’, ‘ _I swear to God if you don’t fuck me right now, Killian_ ’,” he murmured, mimicking her and punctuating each statement with more kisses.

Emma was breathless against him. “Whose bedtime story is this again?” She asked.

“Purely yours, darling. I’m not going to fuck you quite yet, Emma, because we’ve barely begun. But I’m aching to take you, because you’re a siren and I can barely keep my wits about me against the spell you put me under.”

“I’m going to remember that…”

“And my hand has beaten my tongue here,” he said, sliding his hand up to cup one of her breasts. She let out a soft moan. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check, or else he might take her against the brick wall. “Because a certain someone has insisted, by way of pulling me up by my hair, that I kiss her thoroughly and well. And as I am but your humble servant, I comply… until you shove me away, begging me to taste you.”

His thumb grazed over the peak of her breast, and even through her layers of clothing she sighed happily and arched into his touch. “I pause for a moment here,” he pinches her nipple lightly through all of those layers, and drags his tongue up the side of her neck to her ear, “just to make sure you’re good and wet for me.”

His hand reaches across to give the same attention to her other breast before slipping down her abdomen; his thumb hooked over the waistband of her jeans, his fingers splayed across the apex of her thighs. “And it appears my hand has beaten my mouth again, and by the gods, Emma, you’ve never felt so warm or wet. You work very hard, love, trying to scold me because I’m not doing what you ask of me, but you’re quite preoccupied with all the sighing and the moaning you’re doing while my fingers slip inside of you, fucking you as you’re begging me to. And then I’m kissing your thighs, and you’re cursing me from here to hell and back for not giving you what you want, my tongue tasting you, fucking you.”

“And your scruff is scratching up my skin in that way I love,” Emma murmured, lost in a lusty daze.

“I haven’t even pulled out the _coup de grâce_ , love,” he told her.

“Which is…?”

He brought his hook up, lightly dragging the curved edge down her cheek. She sucked in a breath, and he grinned. “Never thought I’d noticed you looking, considering what you could have me do with it, did you?”

“I… maybe…”

“No worries, darling, though perhaps your fullest fantasy can be relayed later. In the meantime, I _am_ fucking you with my tongue, and if your curses were colorful before, they’re enough to make the hardiest of sailors blush now…”

“Cut the flowery shit, Killian,” Emma bit out, jumping against his hand as he pressed against her clit through her jeans.

He bit her ear lightly. “As you wish. You’re crying out for me, begging for more, but I can’t fuck you with my cock yet, darling, I need to see you come apart for me. My fingers return, fucking your cunt, and you’re cursing me again because my rings are cold, but I’m busy licking your clit. And then you’re biting out my name, and I can feel your ecstasy around my fingers and love, no treasure in the world compares to how you look when you come for me.”

“And then what?”

“Why, then I slid up your body and kiss you so you can taste yourself. And as you’re always wild with need for me,” she snorted at that and he bit her earlobe again, “you push me onto my back and climb on top of me, taking me fully inside of you.”

She turned her head to look at him, and he was overcome again with the urge to have his way with her right there in the alleyway. She was far away, in that house in the forest, but staring right through him at the same time. “What about you?” She asked softly.

“This is _your_ bedtime story, Emma. I tell myself others all the time,” he kissed her quickly. “You’re a goddess, riding me, coaxing me, begging me all at once. ‘ _Oh, God, Killian_ ,’ ‘ _Come for me, Killian_ ,’ and ‘ _Faster, pirate_ ’.”

“I’m very verbal in your fantasies.”

“I quite fancy you even _when_ you’re yelling at me, Swan. But it doesn’t take long after that, and we’re both reaching that peak, and when the stars fade from my mind, you’re curled up next to me. Because, love, we both need our rest for the next round.”

He kissed her again. “And with that, Emma, I bid you goodnight.”

“Wait. That’s it?” She asked.

Killian stepped away from her, and grinned. “I said I wanted you to dream of me, love.”

She was caught halfway between the fantasy world he’d built for her and reality. “You never said anything about leaving me horny as fuck, Jones.”

He took a few steps in, and captured her lips once more. She drifted after him for a split second when they parted. “Good night, Miss Swan.”

As much as it pained him to leave her wanting, with his own desire making it hard to walk away, the frustrated growl behind him gave him more pleasure than anticipated. “You’re going to regret this, Hook!”


	2. Emma

Emma didn’t forget about the night in the alley. It lurked in her mind, sneaking up on her during boring mornings at the station, or when he caught her eye across the diner and smiled. It haunted her at night, giving her dreams that drove her crazy, abusing the showerhead in her parents’ loft more often than she felt was comfortable. For weeks, she couldn’t do anything about that night, not the payback he so rightly deserved.

Until now.

The little house by the sea, half hidden in the trees with a full view of the ocean out the front, had two new occupants. Emma’s sparse belongings were set up around all of the new furniture and shelves. Henry’s room was finished. There were matching plates in the cupboards and food in the fridge. Her room had furniture and clothes in a closet, and there was a master bathroom, and Emma herself tried not to panic at the thought of ‘home’ and ‘permanent’, because even if she wished for a place of her own in the world, there was still that part of her that was a little bit afraid to be tied to one thing, one person, one place.

So with the boxes thrown out (a full two weeks after moving in) and the weight of permanency on her, she did the first thing she could think of: send Henry to stay with Regina for the night and invite Killian over.

The night in the alley weighed heavily on her mind as she busily prepared a light dinner for them. She’d promised revenge on him, but where to start? She wasn’t like him, sometimes talking himself hoarse because he loved the sound of his own voice a little _too_ much. Emma couldn’t torment him the way he did her. She was more of an actions-speak-louder kind of woman... so maybe one-upping his story with the real deal would do the trick. They’d had sex before, but it was hurried, teenagers-in-lust sex, with the weight of possibly being caught by her parents or Granny or Ruby or Henry hanging over them. And those encounters were… fine, considering the circumstances, but if truth were to be told she liked a little more when it came to sharing a bed with a man; some ‘oomph’, so to speak, a spark, or a little danger. And even from those brief encounters she’d gauged that he wasn’t afraid to test new waters. So lost in her plans was she that she almost missed the knock at the door that signaled his arrival.

Killian grew a bit suspicious over dinner when she casually mentioned that no, Henry wasn’t going to be joining them that evening. Emma kept conversation light, smoothly maneuvering out of opportunities for him to converse in innuendo. By the end of the meal, she thought she had him half-convinced that this was an entirely innocent social call. He helped clean up after (if by ‘help’ you mean ‘distract Emma with kisses’), and when the dishwasher was humming away, she turned to face him. “So,” she said, bracing herself on the counter.

“So…?”

“No Henry. New house—new, _empty_ house. No parents, no baby brother. Far away from prying eyes and ears…”

His eyebrow ticked up in amusement, and he took a step closer to her, a smile playing on his lips. God, who would have thought she would ever be attracted to someone’s _eyebrows_? It was practically obscene. “Love, I believe you’re trying to hint at something.”

She smiled, dropping her gaze and playing with the buttons on his waistcoat. His hand came up, his callused fingers playing a nameless tune along her skin before lacing with hers. “Do you remember that night you called me into the alley around the corner from the hardware store?” Emma asked.

She glanced up just as a look of understanding dawned on his face. “Aye,” he confirmed, his voice dropping seductively as his head bowed further, their foreheads resting together. “I remember that well.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been nagging at me. I dream about it… a lot,” she fought the urge to smack him for the smug chuckle, “And I’ve… kept myself busy thinking about it.”

“Oh? And how busy is that?” Killian asked, a little too innocently, as his arms went around her.

“Let’s just say the showerhead at my parents’ isn’t so innocent anymore,” she baited. He made an inquiring noise. Right, they hadn’t had shower sex. Yet. Another item to add to the list of things to introduce him to, the not so innocent list, the list that made her lips curl into a smirk. “There’s a way to… I’ll give you a demonstration sometime. Long story short, it gets me off.”

Emma felt her face warm at the intense look of wanting on his face. Limited though their time together had been, there had been enough on occasion to tease and torment him. The first time she’d shown him how she liked to be touched, she’d counted to thirty before he’d rushed in to take over. The second time was about ten. Perhaps she’d get the pirate to come out and play tonight after all. “Do you remember what I said to you, after you were rude and left me all alone?”

He took another step closer, their bodies pressing together. He watched her through heavy eyes, and his breath puffed warm against her cheek as he leaned down to murmur in her ear, “I believe you said you’d make me regret it.”

She suddenly found it hard to breathe properly. “Do you think you could handle it?” Her challenge came out weaker than intended when he pressed his lips to the side of her neck.

“Prove it, Swan,” he mumbled into her skin, and sealed it by grazing his teeth against her.

Ten minutes later, (how long did it take to get thirty feet from the kitchen to the bedroom? Being pushed against the wall and kissed, nipped, her shirt definitely ripped a bit at the ends…) Emma had him out of his clothes and on her bed. Killian started to remove his hook, but she stopped him. “I like the hook.”

He raised his eyebrow at her again, smirking. _Fuck_ , how did he make that little jolt zip through her _every single time_? She bit the inside of her lip to keep from kissing him senseless for it; instead, she reached across him for her handcuffs, which she dangled in front of his face. “Am I under arrest for something now, sheriff?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” she teased, throwing his words back at him. “But I am going to cuff you to the bed, if that’s okay.”

He lay back, putting his arms above his head. “I’m all yours, darling,” he drawled. As she straddled his chest to work the cuffs around the gaps in the headboard, he tugged experimentally on her shirt with his teeth. “How is it, Swan, that I’m bare as a newborn, and you’re still fully clothed?”

Emma looked down at him, amused. “That’s part of the revenge.”

A pained look crossed his face. “Oh, no, don’t tell me…”

“Secrets, Jones.”

It was quick work to cuff his hand and his brace, and she sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork. She really could get used to this image: Killian shirtless, arms up and locked in, and revealing the ways his muscles bunched and stretched his many scars out, not to mention the look on his face (which she would rank somewhere between a glower and a glamor). She was half-tempted to take a photo for her own private use. “Swan,” he warned, lifting his hips experimentally.

She reached back and pushed him back down, making sure her hands stayed on his hipbones. “Ah, ah,” she cautioned. “There are rules, you know.”

“Bloody hell, woman…”

“Rule number one: do as I say,” Emma said. He tilted his head down, giving her a sardonic look. “If I say don’t touch me, you don’t get to touch me. If I say fuck me with your hook, you fuck me with your hook. Capisce?”

Killian thrust his chin up at her. “What if I don’t want to?”

She raised an eyebrow of her own at him. “Because you’re being stubborn? Too bad. Because it makes you really, really uncomfortable? Say the word ‘balderdash’, and we’ll stop.”

At his furrowed brow, she gave a bullet points explanation about safe words. When he agreed, she continued, “Rule number two: try not to move, and rule number three, no talking unless spoken to. Everything else, we’ll play it by ear.”

Killian’s eyes narrowed, accepting her challenge. Emma smiled. She slipped off of him, and removed her shirt, tossing it by the wayside. He was still looking at the ceiling, obeying the no moving rule. “I want you to watch me,” she told him.

He turned his head, eyes dark with lust. She swallowed, suddenly feeling like a rabbit trapped by a wolf; she wondered what would happen if she magicked the handcuffs off right then. Her mother had never warned her about teasing a pirate.

But maybe she should have.

Emma gave the tiniest of headshakes and steeled her nerves. Her hands went to her belt, undoing it and then the buttons on her jeans, sliding them down her legs and kicking them off to join her shirt. She watched his chest heave, his breaths coming out sharp, his muscles taught with resolve not to move. “My, my, and I haven’t even gotten started yet,” she murmured, lightly tracing her fingers up his chest.

She smiled when he opened his mouth wordlessly. “Good boy,” she told him, the mattress dipping under her as she got back into bed and straddled him, the fabric of her panties brushing against his cock.

He glared at her, the muscles in his jaw working. “Oh, it is _killing_ you not to taunt me, isn’t it?” She asked, smiling wide.

Emma started at his mouth. He tried to take control of the kiss, but when he got rough she pulled away. When he learned he was to play the submissive role, she kissed his cheeks, scraping herself with his stubble, biting his jawline, enjoying the way his neck muscles worked as he tried to keep silent. She ran her tongue down his neck, biting the junctures at his shoulders. She glanced up as she made her way down his chest, kissing and biting at turns. He was fighting a losing battle, biting his lip hard to keep from crying out, just as she was fighting her own battle to keep going, draw this out, to wreck this menace of a man, this _pirate_ , on the shoals of her shores.

She reached down between her legs to grasp him, and he shuddered under her touch. Her head came to the tip, and just briefly she swirled her tongue around the hot head. There was a faint sound, like a whine that only dogs might be able to hear, and Emma reached up and raked her nails down his chest. Killian gasped, trying to choke down the sounds, and she took pity on him, saying, “No words, but you can make noise.”

There was a noise that might have been a stifled ‘bloody hell’, and Emma stifled a laugh. Both hands went back to his cock, lightly squeezing, skimming the velvety skin as both hands worked in tandem, one after the other, twisting just a bit. Occasionally she would break the pattern, pulling up instead of down, enjoying watching him squirm, his stomach muscles jumping if she moved her hand over to run her nails down his trail of dark hair. He strained under her touch, eyes squeezed closed, his breathing tight, and she felt a little thrill at the sweat that began to bead at his forehead.

And she stopped.

His eyes flew open. She smiled wider, perhaps a bit more wicked than intended, and crawled up his body to capture his lips, kissing him slowly, deeply; she reached back with one hand and unclasped her bra. She pulled back and he followed her for a moment, trying to reclaim her; she perched on his stomach, sliding the offending garment off and tossing it aside. Killian’s eyes were dark as they raked over her, and then rested on her panties; Emma thought he might be trying to burn them off her with the power of his mind. “Those stay,” she murmured, leaning over him again, her hair ticking the side of his face.

He turned his head slightly, breathing in the scent of her hair, and managed to grab a few strands in his teeth, tugging sharply. She gasped, and started to laugh, trying to ignore the heat pooling her belly. “I don’t know whether to reward you or punish you for that.”

His eyes met hers again, daring her to punish him with the hints of a smirk on his lips. She bent down to whisper in his ear, “You have thirty seconds to talk. Use it wisely.”

“You’ve had your fun, princess, haven’t you? Look at you, all flushed with wanting for me, just from touching my cock, the little taste of me is enough to drive you wild, and I bet those panties of yours are just soaked with your juices, begging me to taste them too. Come on, love, untie me and I’ll fuck you like you want me to. I’ll fuck your little cunt well and hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. That’s what this is about, isn’t it, you’ve had gentleman Jones and now you want the Hook, you said as much. Be a good girl, Swan, just untie me and I swear I’ll make it worth your while—”

“And that’s time,” she purred, putting a finger to his lips.

He strained against her, breathing hard. She sat up a little straighter, held up her hand in front of his eyes and had him watch her hand travel down her chest, barely touching her breasts, down her stomach, and slip under her panties. Damn that man, he knew everything he needed to say to get her completely fired up in just _thirty seconds_? She slid two of her fingers between her folds, gasping and sighing more theatrically than usual just to aggravate him for it. She threw her head back, crying out as she fucked herself with her own fingers; peering between her lashes, she was thrilled to see him struggling against the cuffs, desperate to please her, taste her.

Emma drew her fingers out, and rested them just above his lips. “Taste me,” she ordered softly.

Killian devoured them like they were his last meal, sucking her fingers hard, drawing his tongue roughly over both of them; Emma fought to keep herself, the heat between her legs, under control—seriously, was _everything_ going to be a turn-on with him? He bit down lightly as she pulled away, teeth scraping over skin. She brought her face close to his. “If you’re very, very good, I’ll take them off.”

She kissed him, and shifted up, her breasts hanging above him within reach of his mouth, which took him less than a second to figure out and suck greedily, working fast and switching often. Emma braced herself on the headboard, biting back moans as his tongue swept around her nipples, biting, sucking— _Jesus wept_ she was going to come and they were barely doing _anything_. “Come on, love, let me hear you,” he growled.

“No talking,” she spat tightly; he bit her again, and a deep moan escaped before she could help it.

When he chuckled, her resolve snapped, and she pulled away fast, thrusting her panties off, kicking them across the room. She straddled him, and impaled herself on him, blissful relief for the fire burning inside. The grin on his face was sinful as she began to move. It inflamed her further, stoking the fire higher, threatening to consume her until… “Scream for me, darling,” he grunted, lifting his hips to match her pace, “let me know how I make you feel.”

Her resolve mended instantly at this blatant rule breaking, and when she lifted out of her thrust, she came right off him, moving out of reach of his thrusts. Killian cried out, pulling against the restraints so hard she briefly worried he’d dislocate something. “Don’t hurt yourself, you broke the rules,” she told him.

“Blast your bloody rules, Swan, a man can only take so much!”

Emma got back in his face, gripping the hair at the top of his neck, pulling his head back slightly. “You never said balderdash,” she hissed.

And there was that sinful grin again, spreading slow across his lips, and she knew he was playing with her, making her punish him because he _liked_ it, the bastard. She returned the grin with one of her own, and pulled his hair, hard. He yelped, gasping for breath; she used this moment to climb higher, practically sitting on his face. Clever lad he was, Killian’s tongue found her almost instantly, delving into her, teasing every nerve he could find.

Emma reached down, holding on to the headboard for dear life as she fumbled on the bedside table, her fingers closing over what she sought. She was close, very close…

The second she unlocked the handcuffs, she was thrown backwards, Killian moving with almost surprising agility to not be crushed under her. Emma gasped as he went right back to eating her out, his tongue sliding in and out of her and washing over her clit faster than she could comprehend. Her skin tingled, she never wanted him to stop, begged him not to stop, and the coil inside of her exploded and she was thrusting into his face, his tongue coaxing her higher. When her thrusts slowed, he was on top of her. She was hardly down from her first high when she heard a clicking noise and felt cold metal on her throbbing core. “ _Coup de grâce_ , love,” he whispered.

She felt a slight prick, and then the curved end was nudging the sides of her clit. She shuddered when it slid down to her entrance. “You want it, don’t you, Emma?” Killian asked, his voice dangerous.

“Yes…”

“I didn’t hear you, Swan.”

“Yes!”

She looked down, seeing him reverse his grip on the hook. An involuntary whine slipped out when the dull end entered her, slowly, cold against her. She breathed hard as it teasingly glided in and out, his thumb brushing against her clit with every ease in. “Fucking hell, Killian, just fuck me already!” She cried out.

The metal was gone in an instant, quickly replaced by his cock. She fully expected him to berate her, snarl dirty things into her ear, but as he plunged into her over and over again at a bruising pace, only their desperate panting filled the room. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, trying to match his powerful pace; her teeth sunk into his shoulders, his arms, wherever she could reach, her nails ripping into his back, and again she saw stars as he hit the sweet spot deep within her, too breathless to even scream. He followed a few moments later, his strength draining with his own orgasm.

Killian did his best not to collapse right on top of her, but she laughed and shoved parts of him off her anyway. He rolled onto his back with a groan, chuckling. “Swan, you are amazing, have I told you that recently?”

“Might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Bloody brilliant, you are.”

Wincing slightly from the friction between her legs, Emma rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one arm. “So,” she began coyly, “did you regret it?”

He laughed outright, and it warmed her to see such undeniable joy on his face, the light reflecting off the sweat on his neck and face. “Emma, if it meant you bedded me like that every night, I’d tell you a million bedtime stories.”

Her free hand reached over, taking his hand and inspecting the cuts the metal handcuffs had left on his wrist. She eyed the marks she’d left on his skin. “We should clean you up,” she said, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

Killian’s hand caught her chin, bringing her up to his face. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, pouring all the words they’d never said between them into that one kiss. “I’ve survived worse than a woman in the throes of passion, love,” he told her when they parted. “Let’s catch our breath for a moment.”

She curled to his side, his arm going around her. She pressed more light kisses on his side, her fingers gliding soothingly over his battle wounds as they lay there, breathing, enjoying each other’s company. The urge to say those words came up in her suddenly, and it scared her, terrified her that already she was so lost in him and them and ‘together’ and the idea of ‘permanent’ still hanging over her head. Her heartbeat said ‘ _home, home, home_ ’ and she wasn’t sure if it was the building they were in or the man in whose arms she lay. It was too soon, wasn’t it?

The urge was there, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth and nothing came out. There was relief and disappointment mixing in her heart, but she wanted to be sure. The words weren’t there, but the feeling was. So Emma held him tighter, just a little, and thought it really, really hard, hoping somehow he’d know. _‘I love you, Killian Jones.’_

The arm around her squeezed a little tighter, and she thought perhaps he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM INCAPABLE OF WRITING SOMETHING WITHOUT INCLUDING FLUFF.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated. <3


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